


I Want To Make You Crepes

by Spikedluv



Category: Adam Lambert (Musician), American Idol RPF, Kris Allen (Musician)
Genre: Alternate Universe, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-01-31
Updated: 2011-01-31
Packaged: 2017-10-15 06:41:47
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 10,160
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/158084
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Spikedluv/pseuds/Spikedluv
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>He needed some help dirtying up his squeaky clean image without tarnishing it, and Kris thought that Adam Lambert was just the man for the job.</p>
            </blockquote>





	I Want To Make You Crepes

**Author's Note:**

> Written for aianonlovefest using the prompt: Kris won American Idol a year ago and wants to shed his clean image with a brand new PR team. He hires Adam, a well-known eccentric publicist, to "dirty" his public persona. It's up to you how he does it -- photo shoots with whips and chains, nipple piercings showing in pictures, drinking a bottle of whiskey on stage during a concert, etc etc. One night, Kris has the idea to get caught fucking in the back of a night club and enlists his new publicist to make it happen. (I didn’t get quite ALL of that in there, but I hope the prompter enjoys this anyway.)
> 
> Written: April 26, 2010

It had been a year since Kris had been named the American Idol. A new American Idol had just been crowned and Kris’ reign had come to an end. And not a moment too soon, as far as Kris was concerned. He’d spent the past year pretending to be happily married and straight laced. The squeaky clean image had been strangling, and Kris had often found himself rebelling in small ways.

Each time the blogs had gone crazy with chatter, for example debating whether his teasing of a male fan had been in jest or him ‘letting his gay out’, Kris had rejoiced. At least for the few seconds of peace he had before the Idol machine cracked down on him and impressed upon him (and Katy) once more the importance of the image they were creating.

Which had been Kris’ problem from the beginning. He hadn’t wanted an image that needed to be _created_ , he just wanted to be himself. The image wasn’t _real_ and it felt like a box in which he was suffocating. The first thing that Kris had done the morning after he’d relinquished his crown was make sure their lawyer filed their divorce papers, and then take Katy out to lunch to celebrate.

Now he was headed to an interview with the man he hoped to hire to lead his new PR team. From what Kris had heard and read, the man was eccentric, but his clients were A-list and he produced amazing results. Kris wanted to be himself, but he didn’t want to go about it half-assed, stumbling about and creating a totally different kind of PR nightmare.

He needed some help dirtying up his squeaky clean image without tarnishing it, and Kris thought that Adam Lambert was just the man for the job.

~*~*~*~

An hour later Kris thought he may have gotten more than he’d bargained for with Adam Lambert. He’d seen pictures, of course, and read the articles, but Adam was so much more _intense_ in person. So vibrant and full of energy. His smile was blinding, and his eyes were a gorgeous blue that were enhanced by eyeliner and shadow. He wore black dress slacks and a white button down shirt that was more unbuttoned than buttoned up.

Several necklaces drew Kris’ eyes to Adam’s chest, and rings flashed on his fingers when he spoke. His hair was black and had more product in it than Kris had ever owned, much less used, and when he turned his head just right Kris caught sight of the streak of blue decorating the top. Kris wondered if he’d chosen Adam Lambert’s PR firm because of his reputation, or because he’d been attracted to the man on some level.

It didn’t help that, when Adam looked Kris up and down (after listening with unfeigned interest to Kris explain what he was looking for from a new PR team), and declared that it would be an _absolute pleasure_ to dirty him up, Kris threw a boner and blushed all the way down to his toes.

Kris thought that maybe Adam would dismiss him and work his magic, but Adam asked Kris detailed questions about the image his previous PR team had tried to create, what Kris had liked and disliked about it, and what type of image he wanted to develop now that he had control of his own future. Kris was impressed with Adam’s attention to detail (and to be honest, to the fact that he cared what Kris wanted), and he found himself telling Adam more than he might have otherwise, including the fact that he’d eventually like to come out of the closet.

“Okay,” Adam finally declared, “as much as I love to throw people’s expectations in their faces, I think we need to start slow with you so the world doesn’t tilt off its axis. First thing,” he said, looking Kris over with a critical eye, “clothes.”

“Clothes?” Kris said worriedly.

“Sweetie, you definitely need a new wardrobe.”

Adam called in the fashionista on his team, Cassidy Haley, who tut-tutted over Kris’ deplorable fashion choices. Together they tossed out ideas, flipped through magazines, and totally ignored Kris’ uncertain, “But I _like_ plaid.”

“Don’t worry,” Adam said when they apparently reached a consensus, “we won’t shove you too far out of your comfort zone just yet. We just need to give your wardrobe a little pizzaz. And some sex appeal.”

Kris tried not to fidget as he wondered just what constituted sex appeal in Adam Lambert’s opinion.

“Okay,” Cassidy said, “size.”

Kris told them the size he normally wore, and they both looked at him with varying amounts of sympathy and amusement.

“Nice try, Kristopher,” Adam said, “but we need to measure you. Strip, please.”

“I, um, what?”

“Don’t worry, petal, you don’t have anything we haven’t seen before,” Cassidy said.

“Cas,” Adam warned.

Cassidy rolled his eyes before turning back to Kris and speaking very seriously. “Trust me, I’m a professional.”

And then he ruined it all by winking at Kris, which made him crack up, partly from nerves, and partly from being able to see a little bit of the humor in the situation he’d gotten himself into. If he wanted his image dirtied up a little bit, stripping down so he could be measured for clothes was probably going to be the least of his worries.

~*~*~*~

The clothes Adam and Cassidy had ordered for him were delivered that afternoon. Kris tried to concentrate on the song he’d been working on when his doorbell had rung, but the bags sitting on his bed proved to be too much temptation and so he gave up on finishing the song and spent the rest of the evening sorting through the clothes.

Jeans and t-shirts and button-downs and Henley’s. Nothing he hadn’t worn before, but all in a size smaller than he normally bought. And not a single item in plaid. He tried an outfit on, simple jeans and a t-shirt, and blushed at the way the shirt pulled taut across his chest, and the jeans fit snug to the curve of his ass.

Brad Bell called the next morning and told Kris they’d scheduled a couple of interviews for him, as well as setting up a concert to benefit AIDS research, which he’d be headlining. Kris made a note of everything, even though Brad told him they’d also be informing his PA, Christy, of the upcoming schedule.

Before he hung up, Brad said, “Adam said to remind you to wear the new clothes. He also suggested that you burn your old ones. Okay, he didn’t really say that, but I’ve seen the old ones, and you really should.”

Kris went to the interviews and he did the concert, and while he felt a bit self-conscious in the new clothes that showed off his body more than he was used to, he was self-aware enough to notice a subtle shift in the way people looked at him.

The day after the concert, Adam called Kris. “We’ve set up a photo shoot.” He gave Kris the details, and then said, “Wear the nipple ring.”

Kris froze for a second. The piercing had been one of his acts of rebellion, but it had been his secret; he’d told no one about it. “How . . . ?”

“Sweetie, I know what a pierced nipple looks like, even when you’re not wearing the ring.”

Kris blushed, even though there was no one to see it.

And still Adam said, “You’re adorable, you know that?”

~*~*~*~

When Adam had told him to wear the nipple ring, Kris had thought that the photo shoot would include some shots of him shirtless, but he’d been wrong. Adam was still apparently working the subtle angle.

They dressed him in a suit, left the tie undone and hanging around his neck, the top three buttons of the shirt unfastened, and had him recline on a sofa, legs spread, hand on his thigh. Between shots someone came over and fixed his hair, moved his leg, repositioned his hand. It was so boring that Kris might have fallen asleep if the couch wasn’t so hard and uncomfortable.

The second outfit included a gray Henley and a pair of black jeans so tight that he’d have trouble breathing if he sat down. Luckily they didn’t have him sit for this one. He stood in front of a green screen with his fingers in his front pockets, moving his head, shoulders, and hips as the photographer instructed.

The third and last outfit was a pair of blue jeans and a white t-shirt that pulled so tight across his chest you could clearly see the outline of the nipple ring beneath it. This was what he’d wanted, and still he found himself breathless with nerves at the thought of everyone seeing the ring.

“You okay?” Adam asked, looking at him with a worried expression.

Kris met Adam’s eyes in the mirror and nodded. He was tired of hiding. Still, he was glad that Adam had insisted on baby steps, despite Kris’ own impatience to throw himself out there.

They put Kris through the paces, and from the intent expression on his face, Kris realized that this was the part of the shoot that Adam had ultimately been working towards. He was stood against a ‘wall’, one knee bent, his foot flat against the surface, fingers once more tucked into his pockets. They had him put his foot down and raise his arm above his head, and Kris felt the hem of the t-shirt lift to bare a strip of skin. He sat, leaning forward, elbows on his knees.

For the last set of shots they dumped a bucket of water on him, leaving the t-shirt wet and see through, the ring in his nipple clearly visible. The camera caught everything from the water falling over him, to Kris shaking his head and wiping the water off his face. Thankfully the photographer had stopped taking pictures by the time Kris glanced over and saw the heat in Adam’s eyes; he wasn’t sure the blush that reddened his skin would have fit with the sexy image they was trying to project.

Two weeks later the photo spread hit the stands and Kris’ pictures became the talk of every entertainment blog and gossip rag, and even several gay websites. Kris felt a little bit self-conscious about suddenly being seen as a sex symbol. Though he hardly thought of himself as sexy, he had to admit that the new clothes, the sexier image, gave him the freedom to be more himself without having to worry about anyone coming down on him for not toeing the party PR line.

Adam’s PR team treated the reveal of his new image as if he were new to the music industry and marketed him aggressively. He did more interviews than he could count (radio, morning and late night talk shows, Ellen and Oprah), and hit the radio stations once more, performing for smaller audiences. Kris had to admit that, aside from the lack of sleep and not knowing in which city he was going to wake up, he was happy to be keeping busy. Plus, he enjoyed playing the more intimate venues where it was just him and Cale again, because that allowed him to play around with his arrangements and connect with the audience.

The best part about it though was that one of his new PR team was with him at all times, and more often than not, it was Adam. Kris didn’t know if all new clients got this hands on treatment from the top man, but he tried not to read too much into it. Spending so much time together, Kris had the opportunity to get to know Adam as a person, and not just his publicist.

Kris learned that Adam wasn’t just a pretty face and consummate PR guru. He also had a sense of humor that had Kris cracking up more often than not, and he could talk music, and not just the industry. Adam had admitted one night after too much to drink that once upon a time he’d thought to make it as a rock star, and Kris had even convinced him to sing for him.

Adam had an amazing voice, and once he’d broken the ice, he was willing to sing with Kris more often. They’d gather in one of their hotel rooms, messing around with arrangements for older songs of Kris’ and covers, or writing new ones. Kris would have given anything to have Adam’s voice on his next album, but Adam refused to sing where anyone but Kris could hear.

The best thing about Adam, though, was that he and Kris could talk. About anything and everything. Adam calmed his nerves before a show, and stayed up late with him when he couldn’t sleep. As much as Kris liked Alisan, and had grown to like Brad, he much preferred the times that Adam was with him.

~*~*~*~

The GLAAD Media Awards were coming up and Kris wanted to attend, so of course they had to have a meeting to discuss it. It was via teleconference, since Kris was in Chicago with Alisan, Cale and Christy.

“Is it too soon for this step?” Alisan asked, which had been the same thing Christy had asked Kris when he’d first broached the subject.

As he’d told Christy then, Kris now said, “I won’t be the only ‘straight’ person there,” complete with quotation marks.

Adam sat silent, his lips pursed, fingers steeped under his chin, staring at Kris’ image on the monitor. “Maybe it’ll generate just enough buzz,” he said. “I’ll take care of it,” and then he reached out and switched off the camera.

Adam had an extra ticket for the event, which was attended by everyone on Kris’ PR team. They’d braved the red carpet as a group, and only Adam had borne the brunt of the questions. As ever, Kris was impressed with Adam’s ability to handle the media.

One of the reporters recognized Kris and asked him when his new album would be out, and then started to ask about Adam’s role in his new, sexier public image. Adam placed his hand on Kris’ shoulder and said, “Kris is responsible for his own sexy image. I mean, just look at him,“ and then steered him down the gauntlet of reporters.

Kris sat between Adam and Cassidy, who kept up a steady stream of comments about everyone’s outfits – the good and the bad. Kris couldn’t keep from looking around at everyone with wide eyed wonder. He knew that for some, these types of events got boring, but he couldn’t imagine it. All of this talent in one room made his head spin.

He could also blame some of his dizziness on the fact that Adam leaned over during one of the musical performances and said, “That could be you up there next year.”

The feel of Adam’s breath on his skin, the ghostly touch of his lips against Kris’ ear, made his breath catch. Kris would have been a little bit embarrassed to admit that he’d gone and fallen for his new publicist – the irony that Adam was supposed to ‘dirty’ his image and pave the way for him to come out wasn’t lost on Kris – if he hadn’t sometimes caught Adam looking at him with what Kris would swear was desire burning in his eyes.

There was champagne in the car, and Kris was a little bit tipsy when they finally pulled up at his place after dropping off the others. He looked at Adam through his lashes, suddenly shy when they’d been laughing about something Kris couldn’t even remember just moments ago.

“You want to come in?” he asked, holding his breath.

Adam’s expression went blank, and then he gave Kris the professional smile he hadn’t seen since those first few weeks. “We have to work together, we should probably keep things professional between us.”

Kris felt gutted at the rejection, though he tried not to let it show on his face, especially since he’d felt like he and Adam had already overstepped their professional relationship by becoming friends. He nodded, not in agreement, but in acknowledgment, though he couldn’t resist leaning closer to Adam and saying, “Then maybe you should stop looking at me like you want to fuck me.”

Adam’s mask slipped for a moment and naked desire shone on his face, but Kris didn’t feel any satisfaction. He slid out of the car, just managing not to slam the door shut, and then walked up to his front door with his back straight, shoulders set.

~*~*~*~

Kris went back into the studio the next week. He had a bunch of songs he wanted to record, just to see if they’d be as good as he thought, and new songs were bubbling out of him almost daily. His frustration over the situation with Adam was at least good for one thing.

During breaks he chatted with one of the session musicians they’d brought in. He played keyboard, and he told Kris that he was in a band that had just scored their first big gig. Several of the band members, including Peyton, the keyboardist, were gay, and they were opening for another band in a gay club called Sexual Healing.

“You should come,” Peyton shyly said the next day after he’d played Kris one of their demo tapes, and Kris had surprised himself by how much he meant it when he said, “I’d love to.”

Peyton gave Kris a look of stunned disbelief the next day when Kris said, “I called about tickets, but they’re sold out.”

“Oh, hey, really? I mean, I’ve got tickets, the band, I mean, you really . . . ?”

Kris laughed and assured Peyton that yes, he really was interested in going. Peyton asked how many tickets he needed, and gave Kris a look he couldn’t decipher when Kris said just one. The next day Kris had the ticket in his hand.

Kris called Christy with the information and told her to keep that night clear. Twenty minutes later Adam was on the phone.

“What the hell do you think you’re doing?”

Kris sighed. He’d known that Christy would have to call Adam (they needed to keep his schedule synced up after all), but he’d hoped, in vain, as it happened, that there wouldn’t be any drama over this.

Kris didn’t pretend to misunderstand Adam’s question. “I’m going to a concert,” he simply, and infuriatingly if Adam’s response was any indication, replied. Kris had never heard those words come out of Adam’s mouth, and over the past few months he’d seen Adam pretty angry.

“It’s a gay bar,” Adam finally calmed down enough to say.

Kris fell back into his thick southern accent when he said, “Oh my god, really?”

“That’s . . . .” Kris could *hear* Adam forcing back the words he wanted to say. “I thought we were holding off on this.”

“Holding off on what? I’m not wearing my rainbow t-shirt, I’m going to a _concert_ ,” Kris said, “to listen to a friend play.”

“A gay friend, in a gay band, playing at a gay bar. It’s not a good idea.”

Kris’ temper flared. “Here’s the reality of the situation, Adam: I’m going to that concert. Spin it however the fuck you want.”

Kris turned his phone off with an angry press of his thumb and wished he had the satisfaction of a handset he could slam down.

It was standing room only at Sexual Healing when Kris arrived Saturday night. The bouncer took one look at his ticket and sent him to the stage area. As soon as Peyton saw Kris, his face lit up.

“Kris! Listen, we’re all kind of frantic right now . . . .”

Kris laughed. “I know what that’s like.”

“But thanks so much for coming.”

“You’re welcome, I’m really looking forward to it.”

Peyton introduced Kris to the rest of the guys in the band, and then Kris left them to finish getting ready. When Kris stepped back out into the club, the bouncer guarding the backstage area pointed to a table at the side of the stage.

“Band table.”

“Uh, okay. Thanks,” Kris said.

Kris walked over and introduced himself to the two guys and one girl sitting there. The girl, Taylor, kicked out a chair and said, “Peyton’s friend, right?”

“Yeah,” Kris said as he took the proffered chair. He ordered a beer, then said, “Peyton told me this is their first big gig.”

“Yeah,” the guy to his left, Tim, said, “they’re really good, it’s about time they got a break. Have you heard them play before?”

“Just a demo Peyton had me listen to. I liked it.”

Kris leaned back when the waitress set a bottle of beer on the table, but she was gone before he had his wallet out. “Uh, how do we pay?” he asked.

“They’re running a tab for the band,” Taylor said.

They engaged in small talk for a couple of minutes, and then someone came out on stage to introduce the opening band. Everyone at the table clapped heartily, but they weren’t the only ones eager for the show to get started, so the band got a nice welcome.

The band was pretty good, though the lead singer missed some of the high notes he was trying for, and Peyton was outstanding. He had to be a great keyboardist or he wouldn’t have been chosen to work with Kris in the studio, but seeing him on stage was a whole other matter. The band played for 45 minutes, and when they came off the stage they were hot and thirsty, sweaty and high on adrenaline.

Peyton’s eyes found Kris’ as he approached the table, and Kris stood to give him a hug. “You were great up there!”

“Thanks,” Peyton said, smiling shyly and looking at Kris through his lashes.

That was Kris’ first indication that maybe Peyton had invited him to this gig as more than a friend. Still, Kris was having a good time, and Peyton was a nice guy, so Kris sat back down when everyone crowded around the table, sliding his chair over to make room for Peyton to pull up a chair next to him.

It was 1am before Kris realized it. He’d been up later than this trying to finish a song, or perfect an arrangement, or lay tracks, but interacting with a bunch of people was different, and as soon as he noticed the time, Kris’ entire body drooped with exhaustion.

Kris leaned over to Peyton and said, “Listen, I need to head out. I had a great time, thanks for inviting me.”

“I’m glad you came.” Peyton smiled at Kris, and Kris wasn’t sure if he’d seen a flash of disappointment on his face or not, but now he just looked pleased that Kris’d had a good time. “I’ll walk you out.”

Kris shivered when they reached the sidewalk. It wasn’t cold out, but in contrast to the temperature inside the club, the air was cool on his skin. Kris had driven himself to the club, so they walked to the parking lot and then stopped next to Kris’ car.

Kris opened his mouth to say something, goodbye, thanks again, but he saw determination on Peyton’s face, and then Peyton leaned in and kissed him. Kris froze for a second, and then he relaxed and kissed Peyton back. He wasn’t Adam, but he was a damned good kisser.

Peyton moaned into Kris’ mouth and took a step that brought his body flush against Kris’. Kris brought one hand up to Peyton’s hip and shifted his body so that Peyton’s cock, already hard, ground into him. Kris did it again, and shivered at the sounds Peyton made.

Kris could do this, he could take Peyton home and have sex with him – Peyton was cute, and he wanted Kris, and Kris’s body was clearly sending the message that it would have no problem performing – but it wouldn’t be fair to Peyton, because in the morning Kris would still be thinking about Adam. Hell, he was thinking about Adam now.

Kris broke the kiss, then forced himself to take a step back and break the connection between them. “I’m sorry,” he said, and he really meant it, because wouldn’t it be nice if he could’ve fallen for a nice guy like Peyton? “I can’t do this.”

“Because you’re not out yet?” Peyton said.

“What . . . no. I mean, I’m not out. Yet. But I’m working on it.”

Peyton nodded. “Is that why you hired Adam Lambert?”

Kris chuckled. “Is it that obvious?”

“No, not really. I mean, I like the new clothes,” Peyton said, showing just how much he liked them by blushing, “but it’s the attitude, you know? You seem more free, easier in your own skin.”

Which was exactly what Kris had been aiming for. He hadn’t wanted to have to hide any part of himself any more. “Thanks,” he said.

Peyton shrugged. “So why . . . ?”

“Oh, uh, well.” Kris huffed a humorless laugh. “I’m sort of hung up on someone right now.” Kris shoved his hand through his hair. “This was nice,” he said, “what we did, and I think it would’ve been, you know, even nicer, but it wouldn’t have been fair to you because, well. I don’t want to be that guy.”

Peyton looked like he’d be willing to let Kris be ‘that guy’ if it got them naked together, but he just said, “So what’s the deal with this guy?”

“I guess he’s just not interested,” Kris said, not wanting to go into the whole complicated story.

“Then he’s an idiot,” Peyton said.

~*~*~*~

Kris woke to the sound of someone laying on his doorbell before seven the next morning. By the time he’d gotten home and showered, that meant he’d gotten about five hours of sleep if he was lucky. He tried burying his head under his pillow, but after five minutes of constantly ringing doorbell Kris was ready to kill someone, and it was clear that whoever was out there wasn’t going away.

Kris remember to grab his robe as he stumbled out the bedroom and managed to pull it on as he made his way down the hallway to the front door. He checked the peep hole before opening the door, even though the building had security, and saw Adam standing there, glaring at him as if he knew Kris was standing on the other side of the door.

Kris pulled the door open, and before he could get out a word Adam pushed past him and into the apartment. He wore jeans and a t-shirt under a leather jacket instead of the usual dress slacks, which meant he’d probably been woken early himself.

“Have a good time last night?” Adam said, and it sounded as if he’d locked his jaw from grinding his teeth so hard.

Any thoughts Kris had that he would be going back to bed anytime soon fled. He closed the door, then let the hand holding his robe closed drop as he headed past Adam to the kitchen. Kris didn’t miss the way Adam’s eyes went to the bare skin exposed when the robe parted, and he felt equally pleased that Adam couldn’t hide his interest, and saddened that he’d never act on it.

Kris went through his morning ritual of starting the coffee maker going, getting out his mug and the milk, and then he stood at the counter, his back to Adam, waiting for the coffee to finish brewing. When the last drop dripped through, Kris filled his mug, fixed it, and then took a cautious sip. He took one more before turning to face a fuming Adam.

Kris leaned against the counter, ankles crossed, robe falling open. He took another sip and watched Adam’s gaze travel over his body as if he just couldn’t help himself. When Adam’s eyes finally met his again, Kris said, “What couldn’t wait until I was actually awake?”

Adam tossed a picture onto the island top, and for the first time Kris saw that he held a stack of them in his hand. He tossed another, and then another, chronicling Kris’ night at Sexual Healing from the moment he’d walked in the door right up to the kiss at his car.

“How the hell am I supposed to spin that? I think this has pretty well killed the ‘going to a concert to hear a friend play’ line.”

Kris’ entire body went tight and hot, the fight or flight reflex kicking in, and then he took a deep breath and forced himself to relax. This was what he’d wanted, what he’d been working towards. Granted, it had come a bit earlier in the program then he’d been expecting, but maybe this was a good thing.

“The truth,” Kris said.

“What?”

“Don’t ‘spin’ it, tell the truth.”

“And what truth would that be, Kristopher?”

Kris had to swallow twice before he could make himself say the words out loud. “That I’m gay. That I’m gay,” he repeated, and it was easier the second time.

“And what about this guy?” Adam jabbed his finger at Peyton’s head angrily.

“Still just a friend,” Kris said, taking another sip of coffee and trying to feel a little bit bad that he was enjoying watching Adam turn purple.

The corners of Adam’s jaw worked, and then he said, “So you’re not dating him.”

“Nope.”

Relief warred with irritation on Adam’s face. “Dating would be easier to explain than a one night stand.”

“Not a one night stand,” Kris said, taking mercy on Adam. “It was just a kiss. We kissed, I left. Don’t you think there’d be more pictures if anything else had happened?”

“Why? I mean, why not . . . ?”

“Because he’s a nice guy, and it wouldn’t have been fair to sleep with him when I’m hung up on someone else.”

Kris saw hope in Adam’s eyes before he shuttered them. He pushed off the counter and started walking out of the kitchen.

“He thinks you’re an idiot, by the way,” Kris said as he passed Adam.

“Wait, where are you going? We’re not done here.”

“I’m going to go take a shower now and try to wake up. It looks like today is going to be a very long one. Call me with the party line when you figure it out.” Kris paused, then said, “I’ll also need to call Peyton and let him know what’s going on”, and then smiled when Adam growled behind him.

~*~*~*~

Kris’ hands trembled as he reached for the soap. This _was_ what he wanted, but it was still scary as hell. He forced himself to take a leisurely shower, even though he was dying to see what the gossip rags were saying about the pictures.

Wearing only boxer briefs and still toweling his hair dry, Kris googled his name and clicked on the first link that came up. He shook his head as he read about how he and Peyton (nameless guy) had been having an affair while he was married, and that was why he’d divorced Katy. Disgusted, Kris hit the back button and clicked on the next link. He knew it was a bad idea, but he couldn’t help himself.

Kris got dressed between reading about how the picture had been faked to how Kris wouldn’t kiss a man to how Kris was totally the kind of guy who would kiss another man, and then he snatched up his cell phone off the beside table and called Peyton.

Peyton answered the phone with a sleepy, “Kris?”

“Hey, Peyton, listen, I’m sorry to wake you, but I wanted to give you a heads up.”

“‘Bout what?”

“There are pictures. Of us. Last night. Kissing.”

“Oh. Oh! Oh my god, Kris, I’m so sorry!”

“No, Peyton, listen, it’s not your fault, man, really.”

“What are you going to do?”

“Tell the truth,” Kris said, shrugging even though no one could see him.

“I’m really sorry.”

“No, hey, this is what I wanted, right? I mean, maybe a little sooner than I’d planned, but, it’ll work out, so don’t worry, okay? I just wanted you to know about the pictures so you didn’t get blind-sided. My PR team is going to issue a statement, and as soon as I know what that is, I’ll call you, okay?”

Peyton’s, “Okay,” was subdued, but Kris tried not to worry about that. He had a coming out to attend to.

When Kris got downstairs, Adam was still there. He’d made himself comfortable at the island with a mug of coffee, and had his phone pressed to his ear with one hand, the other scribbling notes on a clean sheet of paper at the back of the notebook in which Kris wrote his songs. Kris really hoped that Adam hadn’t bothered to read the lyrics to that last song, because him recognizing Kris’ moping over Adam rejecting his advance would be pretty humiliating.

Kris couldn’t get too worked up over it though, because Adam wore his glasses, and all of Kris’ blood had rushed out of his head the moment he saw them perched on the end of Adam’s nose.

Luckily, Adam had bigger fish to fry than reading Kris’ lyrics, or noticing Kris’ hard-on. He looked at Kris as he disconnected his call and said, “We’ve scheduled an exclusive interview with Jim Cantiello.”

“Why him?” Kris asked, though he didn’t really have a preference.

“Because he always seemed to have a crush on you and we think he’ll go easy on you,” Adam said.

Kris opened his mouth to say that he didn’t need anyone to go easy on him, then snapped it shut.

Adam drove them to the interview, and Kris took the time to call Katy, and then his mother, to tell them about the pictures, and about the interview.

Katy was silent for a few seconds before she said, “Good luck, Kris. Thanks for letting me know.”

They hung up without saying much more than that, and then Kris called his mom.

She immediately said, “Oh, sweetie, is there anything I can do to make this easier for you?”

Kris was caught off guard by her matter of fact acceptance of the fact that he’d been caught kissing another man and was about to announce to the world that he was gay. He said, “Aren’t you even a little bit surprised?”

Kim Allen took a moment to collect herself, and then said, very unconvincingly, “Yes?”

Kris laughed. “Why didn’t you say anything?”

She countered with, “Why didn’t you? I’ll tell you why,” she continued, “because you weren’t ready to say it, or to hear it. I’m glad you figured it out, sweetheart. We just want you to be happy.”

They talked until Adam pulled the car into the parking lot, and Kris felt pretty good going into the interview knowing that he had his mother’s support.

The first words out of Jim’s mouth were, “My gaydar is _never_ wrong. It was your pretty little wife that had me confused.”

They took their seats for the interview and Jim went over the questions he was going to ask so Kris wasn’t surprised by any of them. Kris just nodded, and Adam only complained about the wording of one of them, and then they were set. Jim nodded at the cameraman, and as soon as the cameras began rolling, the interview started.

Jim spoke into the camera. “We’re here with Kris Allen, who’s agreed to speak exclusively with MTV News about recent events.”

A picture of the kiss flashed on the screen behind them. It was huge, and Kris almost laughed at the ludicrousness of having that kiss immortalized in such fashion, then schooled his expression.

“This picture’s been showing up all over the internet this morning, and even in print,” Jim said. “Is that you in the picture, Kris, kissing another man?”

Kris nodded. “Yes, Jim, that’s me.”

“Kris, are you gay?”

“Yeah,” Kris said, speaking slowly, “I am, I’m gay.”

“How long have you known you were gay?”

Kris shrugged. “I guess some part of me has always known, but I didn’t really *know* until we moved to LA.”

“Was there any one thing that made you go, uh oh, I think I’m gay?”

Kris laughed. “No, I wouldn’t say there was any _one_ thing. More like a bunch of things. I met new people, had new experiences, and along the way learned some things about myself.”

“Like the fact that you like to kiss pretty boys?”

Kris blushed. “Yeah, like that,” he said drolly, answering the question even though it hadn’t been on the list.

“Sorry, couldn’t resist,” Jim said. “So is this the reason you got divorced?”

“Katy and I got divorced because we grew apart, wanted different things.”

“Some people are saying that you cheated on your wife with another man, is there any truth to that?”

Kris laughed. “No, none. I wouldn’t have done that to Katy. We may have fallen out of love, but she’d been my best friend for years. Besides, she would have killed me.”

“How do you think this news will this affect your career?”

“I don’t know,” Kris said. “I’d like to say it won’t, because my music has nothing to do with who I love, but I know that’s naive, so I can only say that if you liked my music before this, I hope you’ll continue to enjoy my music no matter who I fall in love with.”

“Are you dating anyone now?”

Kris shook his head. “No.”

“Not even this pretty boy?” Jim indicated the screen behind them.

“He’s just a friend.”

Jim’s eyebrows nearly met his hairline.

“Who kisses really well.”

Kris forced himself to keep his eyes on Jim despite the low growl he heard from Adam.

“And on that note, just one more question. Are you free Friday night?”

Kris smiled as he imagined Adam jumping over the cameraman to get to Jim. “I always knew you had a crush on me, Jim.”

“The secret’s out,” Jim said to the camera. “Kris, thank you so much for coming in to speak with us.”

Kris inclined his head, acknowledging Jim’s comment, but he refrained from saying ‘you’re welcome’ or ‘my pleasure’, because neither were really true, and he wasn’t sure he could carry off the lie that well.

Someone called ‘cut’, and Kris slid off the chair. He shook Jim’s hand, and then half-stumbled over to Adam. “So,” he said, “now the shit really hits the fan.”

“Language, Kristopher,” Adam said, and it sounded so much like his mother that Kris laughed, which turned into a sob.

Adam squeezed his shoulder, and then rubbed circles on his back. “You okay?”

Kris nodded. He wasn’t, not completely, but he would be. He’d walk through the fire of the next few hours, days, and come out the other side stronger for it.

They walked out to Adam’s car in a silence that felt stifling once they got inside the Mustang. Kris turned on the stereo, but he didn’t want to listen to the radio for fear of hearing reports about The Kiss, as he was beginning to think of it, so he hit the CD button to play whatever Adam had in the player.

Kris’ eyes went wide when he heard his own voice coming out of the speakers. He glanced over at Adam who just shrugged without taking his eyes off the road.

“Sue me, I like your music.”

Kris laughed. He reached over and touched Adam’s hand.

“Kris.”

“Please, just . . . .”

Adam turned his hand over and gripped Kris’ tight, and Kris allowed himself a moment of weakness to take strength from Adam, no matter how grudgingly offered.

When they got back to Kris’ apartment building, Adam parked the car instead of letting Kris out, and followed him up. Kris was confused, but he didn’t ask any questions. When he opened the door he was greeted with half a dozen people shouting, “Surprise!”

Alisan, Brad, Cassidy, Matt, Megan and Allison all stood beneath a large banner proclaiming, “Congratulations on your Coming Out!”

Kris laughed so hard he had to bend over to catch his breath, and then he hugged everyone. Allison and Megan held him extra tight, and Matt said, “If only I’d known this during Idol,” which made Kris laugh again.

Laughing was good, because sometimes Kris felt a little too close to tears.

~*~*~*~

“I’m going.”

“It’s too soon,” Adam said.

“It’s just a club!”

Adam just stared at him for a beat, and then said, “Yes, and remember how well that went last time.”

“Everyone already knows I’m gay, what’s the worst that could happen?”

“Seriously?”

Kris nodded.

“A picture of you kissing another guy is one thing, photos of you having sex on the dance floor quite another.”

Kris gasped. “I wouldn’t do that!”

“Do what?” Brad said as he breezed in without knocking and dropped a file on Adam’s desk.

“Have sex on a dance floor,” Kris said, still shocked that Adam had even said that.

“Oh, baby,” Brad said, pityingly. “You totally would.”

Kris crossed his arms over his chest defensively. “I’m not some kind of slut who can’t keep it in his pants.”

“No,” Brad said, “you’re a gay boy who’s just been given the keys to the golden chalice.”

Kris stared at Brad. “What does that even mean?”

“Temptation,” Brad explained. “You’ve managed to keep your hands out of the cookie jar because you told yourself there were no cookies in it, but now you’re getting ready to jump into the cookie jar with both feet. You don’t stand a chance.”

“That’s . . . I don’t even know what you just said.”

“How do you feel when you’re on stage?” Adam said. “You’re getting into the music, really feeling, and the crowd loves you. When it’s over you still feel high, have this adrenaline rush you can’t shake.”

Kris blushed.

“Now imagine a hundred other people who are all feeling the same thing, all crowded together on a dance floor, rubbing up against each other. . . .”

“It’s a train wreck waiting to happen,” Brad said.

“So you don’t think I should go, either?”

“Hell, no, baby, you should definitely go!”

Both Adam and Kris looked at him in surprise.

“You just shouldn’t go alone. We’ll take you.” Brad took Kris’ hands and leaned over and bussed him on the cheek. “We’ll pick you up at ten. Dress sexy.”

Kris stared open mouthed as Brad, with his bright pink lips, pranced out of the office. He turned to Adam, pointed to his cheek. “Do I have . . . ?”

Adam nodded.

~*~*~*~

Kris walked out of the bathroom, still wiping drops of water off his chest, and stared at the clothes laid out on his bed. Not the outfit he’d chosen before he went in to take his shower.

“I picked it out,” Cassidy said from the open doorway.

Kris jumped, barely managed to bite back a squeak of surprise, and dropped the towel to his groin.

“What the hell? How did you even get in here?”

“We have a key,” Cassidy said, as if Kris should have known that. “For emergencies.”

“Clothing emergencies?”

Cassidy smiled. “Exactly. Now get dressed.” He shoved off the doorframe, then turned back. “Oh, and no underwear with those pants. They wouldn’t fit anyway.”

Kris stared wide eyed at the spot where Cassidy no longer stood, and then down at the jeans, and started to hyperventilate. The jeans and t-shirt he’d picked out had been replaced with a different pair of jeans, a short sleeved button down shirt (in a color that defied Kris’ brain to name it – something between a dark purple and red) that felt like silk, and a pair of black ankle boots that zipped up the inside.

Kris absently rubbed the towel over his head as he picked up the jeans and held them up. He checked the label – they were the same size as the other pants in his closet, but they looked a whole lot smaller.

Kris pulled the jeans on – without underwear – and then fought to get them fastened. He sat on the edge of the bed, then bounced back up, quickly unbuttoned and unzipped them, and then apologized silently to his balls. He did a few deep knee bends to stretch out the material, then pulled on socks and boots before re-fastening the pants.

Kris threw a little bit of gel in his hair then put the shirt on. He gave himself one last look in the mirror and then went to find Cassidy.

Cassidy ran an appraising eye over him and said, “That color looks great on you.” Before Kris could stop him, Cassidy had the top three buttons of the shirt undone. Kris reached up, but Cassidy slapped his hand away. “Don’t touch.”

Cassidy also unbuttoned the bottom button, and told Kris to raise his arms. Cassidy smiled when Kris did what he’d asked, though when he looked down Kris couldn’t tell what Cassidy saw, but he said, “Perfect. You’ll catch your man yet.”

“I . . . what?”

Cassidy gave Kris a long look. “I haven’t seen him look at anyone the way he looks at you, not since Brad.”

Adam, one late night after they’d both had too much to drink, had told Kris a little bit about his relationship with Brad, and their break up, and how glad he was that they’d remained friends, though it had taken them a while to get where they were now.

“Look at you,” Cassidy said, “all gift wrapped for him. He won’t be able to resist this little pressie.”

Kris blushed and Cassidy chuckled.

“You’re so cute.”

Just then Kris’ cell rang; it was Adam, calling to let him know that the car was waiting downstairs. When they reached the parking lot, Adam was standing outside the car by the open back door. He glared at Cassidy when he saw him, but Cassidy just smiled and kissed Adam’s cheek before climbing into the car where Brad awaited.

Adam’s eyes were still hot when they fell on Kris, but not with anger. Kris shivered as Adam’s gaze moved over him, so heavy he could almost feel it. When their eyes met Kris wanted to fall on Adam and press him against the car and just kiss him.

Adam broke the spell by dragging his gaze away and gesturing toward the open door. Kris took a step forward, almost afraid the ground would be soft as marshmallow beneath his feet and he’d sink right in. But it wasn’t, and when he bent to climb in the car he felt Adam’s gaze burning into the bare skin of his lower back where his shirt had raised up.

Cassidy and Brad were sitting so that there was just enough room for Adam to slide in next to Kris. They sat so close their legs touched, and Kris could feel the tension as Adam tried to ignore him, and as he tried to ignore the fact that Adam had to try so damned hard to ignore him. Kris had to twist his fingers together to keep from reaching out and placing his hand on Adam’s thigh.

It was a relief to get out of the car when they reached the club. Adam hadn’t given Kris a choice on where they were going, once the choice of Kris going at all had neatly been taken out of his hand by Brad, but Kris was sure that he’d picked the club least likely to get Kris in any kind of trouble that Adam, or one of the others, couldn’t easily get him out of.

Brad and Cassidy headed for the bar, with Kris following them and Adam bringing up the rear. Brad ordered drinks for them all and passed them out when the (really pretty) bartender set them on the bar top. Kris looked at the umbrella floating in the pink drink suspiciously before taking a cautious sip.

He was pleasantly surprised to discover that it tasted pretty good, but he didn’t have time to savor it because Cassidy grabbed his hand and began dragging him towards the dance floor.

“Whoa, whoa, wait, what . . . ?”

“You’ve had enough to drink, time to dance.”

“No, I really haven’t,” Kris said, but Brad lifted the drink out of his hand and Adam gave him a wave and an evil little smirk, and then Kris lost sight of them as he was pulled through the crowd to the dance floor.

Cassidy stopped and turned to face Kris, and then just started moving, his hips and shoulders like liquid as he rolled them to the beat vibrating through the floor. “Dance,” he said when Kris just stood there.

Kris shook his head. “I can’t! I don’t really dance.”

Cassidy rolled his eyes. “Baby, I’ve seen you on stage. Just close your eyes and pretend you’re singing your little heart out.”

Kris flushed as he remembered Adam’s comment that being on the dance floor would be similar to how he felt after a show. He wiped his palms on his jeans and took a deep breath, and then closed his eyes and let the music wash over him. He didn’t know the words to this particular song, but he hummed along and just let himself move.

Kris didn’t know how long they were out there, but he was hot and sweating by the time Cassidy touched his arm to get his attention. He inclined his head towards the bar, and then slid through the seething mass around them like an eel. Kris followed and wished for a bottle of water but took the glass Brad handed him and drank it down in one go.

“Whoa, sugar,” Brad said, “be careful with that.”

“Water,” Kris said, and Adam handed him a bottle as if he’d had it waiting for him. Kris gave him a grateful look and then guzzled half the bottle. When he lowered his hand and raised the other to wipe the back of it across his mouth, he caught Adam staring at him.

“My turn,” Brad said, and Kris was once more hauled out onto the dance floor. He didn’t even bother resisting this time, just stretched to hand off the bottle to Adam and let himself be drawn back among the writhing bodies.

As coincidence had it, a slow song started up and Brad plastered himself against Kris, who tried to disguise his deer in the headlights look.

“Don’t hurt him,” Brad said.

“What?”

“Adam, don’t hurt him.”

“I-I wouldn’t hurt him,” Kris said, surprised, “but it’s sort of a moot point because I don’t actually _have_ him.”

“You will,” Brad said authoritatively, “now put your hands on my ass.”

Shocked by the request, Kris obeyed without thinking, and then he squeezed and pulled Brad in closer.

“Mmm,” Brad said, “you sure you want Adam? Boy’s a top, you know.”

Kris pressed his lips to Brad’s ear and whispered, “Yes,” which made Brad giggle.

“Uh oh,” Brad said, cutting off the giggle, “boy’s on the warpath.”

“What?”

Before Kris could look around to see what Brad was talking about Cassidy was there beside them.

“Where’s Adam?” Kris asked.

“He’ll be right back,” Cassidy said, smirking a little bit as he pressed up close to Kris and Brad and dropped a hand on both their asses. He looked Brad over, and then dipped his head and claimed Brad’s lips in a kiss that made Kris squirm even from the outside.

Cassidy raised his head and licked his lips, and then turned to look at Kris. Kris felt his eyes go wide as he looked to Brad for help and saw the same predatory look on Brad’s face.

“No!” he said, but he was trapped in the maze of their arms.

Both heads swooped down and laid claim to Kris’ neck, pressing soft kisses along the length of it, biting and licking.

“Fuck,” Kris moaned. Now he knew exactly what Adam had been talking about, because this felt so amazing that all he wanted was let them keep doing that forever. Kris rolled his hips and Brad moaned. Kris thought that if they asked, he’d go home with them right that second. Or into some seedy back room, whichever was closest.

Suddenly Kris was alone. Brad and Cassidy had broken off and stepped back, and now seemed absorbed in each other. For some odd reason, he felt momentarily bereft, and then an arm slipped around him. A strong hand pressed against his belly and drew him back against a hard chest.

Kris moaned because, fuck, _Adam_.

Kris slid his hand over top of Adam’s and let his head drop back against Adam’s shoulder.

Adam bent his head and his lips brushed Kris’ ear. “I told you you’d get in trouble.”

Kris moaned and ground his ass back against Adam. Adam’s hand flexed on Kris’ belly and his other hand came up to grip Kris’ hip. Kris raised his arm and encircled Adam’s neck. He tipped his head back, lips searching, begging for Adam’s.

“Who are you hot for,” Adam asked, “me or them?”

“You,” Kris said, “you, you, you.”

It was true. The moment Adam touched him Kris couldn’t think of anyone, of anything but Adam.

“Adam, please.”

Adam bent his head until his lips just brushed Kris’. His hand moved in circles on Kris’ belly, and he remembered Cassidy’s comment that Adam would like the shirt. Adam slid the shirt up and Kris felt the warm air of the club cool on his overheated skin.

Adam didn’t stop until his fingers encountered the ring Kris had worn. He rubbed the silk over it, over and over it until Kris’ nipple was hard and sensitive. Kris whimpered as Adam tugged on the ring, and only then did Adam crush their lips together, taking the noises Kris couldn’t stop making into his mouth.

Adam released Kris’ nipple ring and slid his hand back down, tips of his fingers sliding beneath the waistband of Kris’ jeans.

“How did you even get into these?” Adam growled.

“No underwear,” Kris breathed, and moaned when Adam bit and sucked on his lips, fingertips scratching at his belly.

Kris tried to push Adam’s hand lower, but Adam resisted.

“You want me to make you come right here on the dance floor?” Adam said.

Something in Adam’s voice warned him, so Kris said, “No?”

Adam chuckled and swung Kris around, pulling him in close and kissing him. “But you’d let me, wouldn’t you?” Adam said when he broke the kiss.

Kris moaned, “Mmm, I’d let you do anything.”

“Fuck,” Adam said. “Don’t say things like that.”

“Why not? It’s true.”

“This, this could get complicated, Kristopher.”

“I like complicated,” Kris said, “complicated and messy. Really, really messy,” he said, making it sound dirty. “But if you want me to simplify things I could fire you, and there wouldn’t be any conflicts, and instead of being my publicist you could be my . . . something else.”

“You can’t fire me,” Adam said indulgently, “we have a contract. Besides, I wouldn’t trust anyone else to keep you out of trouble.”

“See?” Kris said. “I need you. Adam, I . . . .”

Adam pressed his finger to Kris’ lips, silencing him. “Don’t say it.”

“Why not?”

“Because I’m trying really hard to keep my hands out of your pants.”

Kris moaned and reflexively rocked his hips into Adam.

“And that’s not helping.”

“We could always leave,” Kris suggested hopefully.

“I thought you wanted to go clubbing,” Adam mocked.

“Or we could stay and dance if you want,” Kris said, sliding his arm around Adam’s neck and biting his bottom lip as he circled his hips into Adam.

“We’re leaving,” Adam snarled, and then manhandled Kris towards the door.

“What about . . . .?”

“I don’t think they actually planned on leaving with us,” Adam said, and Kris didn’t bother arguing. At this point he didn’t care if Brad and Cassidy had to walk home.

The driver was leaning against the car, smoking when they exited the club. He flicked the cigarette butt away when he saw Adam, and moved to open the back door. Adam said something to him that Kris didn’t hear as he slid into the back, and then followed him in.

Adam didn’t even bother to wait for them to pull away from the curb before pulling Kris over and slipping his hand down between Kris’ legs. Kris moaned and bucked his hips, pushing up into Adam’s hand as he buried his face in Adam’s neck. He mouthed at the salty skin as Adam fought with the button and zip, and then swore.

“How tight are these pants?”

“Very,” Kris whined, as he helped Adam shove them down inch by agonizing inch.

As soon as Kris’ cock was freed, Adam went to his knees on the floor of the car. He spread Kris’ legs as far as he could and moved between them, lowering his head and swallowing Kris down.

Kris wanted to scream, but his breath caught in his throat as Adam’s mouth slipped down over him. All he could do was slide his fingers into Adam’s hair and just hang on as Adam took him apart.

When Kris came back to himself Adam was beside him on the seat once more, his arms around Kris, lips murmuring soft reassurances against his ear. Kris shifted, raised his hand and tried to curl unresponsive fingers into Adam’s shirt.

“Hey, baby, you all right?”

Kris tipped his face up and Adam brushed his lips across Kris’. Kris flicked his tongue against Adam’s lips, and Adam moaned as he licked his way into Kris’ mouth. Kris issued an answering moan when he tasted himself on Adam’s tongue.

Kris let his hand slide down Adam’s belly to his groin, and found him still hard. He pressed his palm to Adam and said, “Adam, can I?”

“You don’t have to . . . .”

Kris licked his lips. “I want to. Please.”

Adam groaned. He brushed Kris’ fingers out of the way and unfastened his own pants. Kris stroked his hand over Adam’s hip as Adam pushed his pants down this thighs. Kris’ mouth watered when Adam’s cock sprang free and the scent of sex reached his nostrils.

Kris brushed his fingers over Adam, then lowered his head and lapped the drop of pre-come off the tip, savoring the taste of it. He dragged his tongue down the length of Adam’s cock, just getting a feel for him, and then he closed his mouth over the head and sucked experimentally.

Adam made a sound that went straight to Kris’ groin and he patted his hand on Kris’ shoulder lightly as if he was afraid that Kris might break under a stronger touch. Kris tried to work his tongue against Adam as he took more of him in, but Adam was large and Kris accidently touched him with his teeth.

Adam gasped and Kris lifted off of him. “Sorry. Am I doing it right?”

“Oh, baby,” Adam said, “there is no way you could possibly do it wrong.”

Adam kissed Kris then, hard, his tongue licking at the taste of himself in Kris’ mouth. When he drew back he took Kris’ hand and pressed it to the base of his cock.

“Like this,” he said, curling both their fingers around him, “and just . . . .”

Kris jacked Adam as he lowered his head and took him back into his mouth. His tongue found the spot below the ridge that made fireworks go off in his own head, and Adam’s hand stuttered to a stop. Kris kept jacking, and licking, and sucking until Adam made a pained sound and _Kris_.

Adam’s cock grew even harder on Kris’ tongue, and then it pulsed and pulsed, spurting Adam’s release into Kris’ mouth. Kris choked a little bit as he swallowed, and then he suckled Adam clean until Adam whimpered and pulled him off, dragging him up for another kiss.

When the kiss ended, Kris tucked himself up against Adam and they just sat there, holding each other.

After a few minutes Adam said, “What do you want, Kris?”

“Mmm?”

“What do you want from me?”

“Mmm, everything,” Kris murmured. Kris felt Adam’s chest expand as he took a breath to speak again. Before he could, Kris said, “I want to wake up next to you in the morning. I want to come home to you sitting on the couch, reading your reports or files or whatever, wearing your glasses, because I think they’re really sexy. I want to make you crepes.”

“You know how to make crepes?” Adam said, sounding impressed and amused.

“No,” Kris admitted, “but I’d learn.”

Adam laughed softly, and his arms tightened around Kris. Kris thought that just maybe he might get the chance to do all of that.

The End


End file.
